like fuel to the fire
by waltz2
Summary: Monkey D. Luffy has been assigned to be Rob Lucci's intern at Kobe port's customs. What follows is Lucci's slow descent into /feelings/. - or Luffy grows on Lucci like mold and their relationship is a slow burn kind of deal. Modern!AU.
1. Chapter 1

_like fuel to the fire_

summary: Monkey D. Luffy has been assigned to be Rob Lucci's intern at Kobe port's customs. What follows is Lucci's slow descent into /feelings/.

preview of where I eventually want to end up: _"Woah," Luffy mumbles dazed, lips shining with spit. Lucci thinks about how easy it would be to manhandle him against a wall, nudge his legs apart with a knee and buck against him like a dog in a rut. He blinks owlishly, slowly, crossing gazes with Luffy's large, expressive eyes, and thinks that maybe he just wants to kiss him again._

Do you ever have an idea that just _doesn't_ go away? Well, meet mine~

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chapter 1

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Eight minutes before the alarm on his phone goes off, Lucci stirs awake and snaps his eyes open. The Maersk Elgin's docking at five thirty and he needs to be at the harbor's Rokko terminal at least half an hour beforehand to prepare the inspection. It's pitch black in his bedroom aside from the streetlight falling in from the window. He sits upright, stretches his arms out above him, gets the crick out of his neck and throws the sheets off his legs, almost knocking the white roll pillow off the foot-end.

Lucci switches the lamp on his nightstand on. He squints bleary-eyed against the yellowish-white glare, hauling a hand through his unruly mop of hair and scratching the base of his neck, fingertips reaching past the neckline of the tank top he sleeps in.

His bedroom is sparsely furnished due to a lack of space. Lucci lives in a two-story building down some small, crowded neighborhood about a twenty-minute drive away from port where he works as a customs officer; but there's a hospital nearby, and a park with a basketball court that's always deserted in the evenings. He grabs his phone, gets out of bed and heads on down to the kitchen. Blinking the last sleep from his eyes, Lucci looks disheveled in just a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top.

Summers are hot and humid even at night, and aside from the constant hum of the air-conditioner and the shuffle of his bare feet, it's dead-quiet inside the house.

With the sound of the coffee machine on the background chasing away the silence, Lucci rounds the kitchen counter, opens his fridge and grabs a glass jar of jam and bagged pastries. There's a detailed drawing of a rabbit on the paper bag: the local bakery's logo. After a quick breakfast, he drinks his strong cup of coffee in peace, scrolling down the news on his phone, sweeps the crumbs off his plate into the paper bag, gets up and slides the glass door open to the patio. Outside, the temperature's bearable and the air's not too clammy yet.

There's a decently-sized dovecote mounted against the wall, made from pinewood. A pigeon's low and steady cooing can be heard from the inside.

Lucci softly knocks on the wood and when he hears the rustle of feathers, he starts to strew the crumbs over the ledge, clicking his tongue to draw the pigeon out. The bird's name is Hattori. Over five years ago, Lucci found the pigeon as a helpless, young squab in a broken nest on the ground and decided to raise it by himself.

The sound of cicadas dooms up from his neighbor's backyard behind the garden wall, but he barely pays heed to the noise. He checks if there's still enough water in the bottle holder to last Hattori for the day.

Back inside the house, Lucci continues his morning routine. With the grace of a large cat on the prowl, he silently trudges up the steps of the staircase and makes a beeline for the bathroom, which interior is much like the rest of the house: modern, monochrome and sleek. He does a hundred pushups on the bathroom floor and takes a quick, cold shower.

After toweling himself dry and combing his unruly, wet mane, Lucci attentively studies his reflection in the rectangular mirror above the washing table, searching for stubborn hairs in his brows and goatee, set of tweezers in hand, and brushes his teeth.

He unceremoniously dumps the wet towel and his sweaty underwear into the laundry hamper, the wicker lid falling back shut with a curt _bang._ Quickly steps into a pair of designer boxer-briefs and pulls them up over his ass, so the white elastic band spelling out _Emporio_ fits snug around his hipbones. 'Dress to impress' has been a motto Lucci adhered to since his early teens.

Most of his wardrobe consists of designer suits, quality clothing, patent leather dress shoes and fancy loafers, but in his opinion, an expensive taste's well worth the price. It's something he acquired from his uncle.

Lucci was orphaned at a young age and since he didn't have any relatives who were financially able to raise him back in Italy, he got sent off to Tokyo, where his uncle worked at the embassy. Money was never an issue, but him being a foreigner _was_ , sometimes. He stands shirtless in front of his closet, pensively rubbing his chin as his gaze goes from one coating hanger to the next, trying to decide on what shirt to wear.

Under the bright bedroom lights, the blackish purple color of the crossed-out squares tattooed on his arms is overexposed, boldly standing out against his slightly-tanned skin.

When he's fully dressed and put his hair up in a ponytail to get it out of his neck, Lucci deliberately leaves the first two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, spritzes some of his favorite cologne against the column of his throat and pops the collar. It's still so early but he feels surprisingly _awake_. Must've been the coffee. He just needs to get his lunchbox from the fridge, with the leftovers from yesterday's dinner, and grab his phone from the counter and his briefcase, then he can slip on his shoes and head off to work.

Driving down to the harbor in the dark feels like being in a movie. Streetlight falls through the front window of his car in neat intervals. Lucci likes the contemplative quiet of the city during nighttime. It's a stark contrast with the bustling port just beyond its borders.

Spandam's waiting for him at the beginning of the terminal, with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his blazer and his tie whipping around his neck. There's a strong wind that sprays the smell of seawater into their faces. Dockworkers are scrambling around them, readying the terminal for the ship's arrival, and in the background, over the sound of the waves crashing against the walkway, the wheels of a movable crane bulldozer over the concrete. Lucci furrows his brows when he sees his superior isn't waiting for him alone.

One of the foremen he recognizes to be Franky is standing next to him, talking excitedly to a young man barely out of his teens. Lucci's never seen the boy around here before.

" _Ah_ , Lucci, there you are," Spandam beckons him over impatiently when he's close enough, obviously tired of being ignored by his company. "Remember that, _ahem_ , assignment we talked about last week?" All he gets in response is an unimpressed, stone-cold expression. Spandam bristles and continues irritably, "About the internship, yes? _Pah,_ well, this is your internee. Monkey D. Garp's _grandson_ —"

Before Spandam manages to wedge another word in, the boy pipes up loudly, " _Oi_ , I can introduce myself!"

"My name's Luffy," he says over Franky's roaring laughter, turning towards Lucci with a big grin on his face. "Nice to meet you!" His words aren't accompanied by the customary bow or handshake, but there's enthusiasm visible in his loose-limbed, almost lanky posture. "And I know more people who work here than just my _gramps_."

Lucci wonders how much it would affect his perfect record if he turns around and walks away now. This boy's going to be a headache, of that he's _sure._

"Like me," Franky agrees gleefully, pointing at himself with a satisfied smile curled on his lips. " _Hah_ , Luffy's been around the docks since he's been a kid, always getting into trouble—" Lucci snaps his head up at the word, looking sharply at the foreman as he says this, while Luffy happily nods along in confirmation.

"Did you know Shanks had to dive into the water to get 'em out once? Garp was _so pissed."_

Done with the conversation, Spandam loudly scrapes his throat, and when that doesn't get their attention, he exclaims rather loudly, "Yes, yes, but Garp's grandson – _"My name's Luffy!"_ – will be upholding a certain standard now, and who better to coach him than our very best, _mmmh_?"

Scratching the side of his head, Franky looks somewhat dubiously at Spandam and mutters, "They'll be evenly matched if you ask me."

Spandam huffs in return and replies stiffly, "But _I_ didn't." Jabbing his forefinger at Lucci, he continues, "He'll be under _your_ supervision. Show him what we do around here, ease him into it with some easy tasks and please _don't_ give Garp a reason to complain about us. Last thing I need is the coast guard nagging at me!"

"I'll make sure he's on his best behavior," Lucci responds coolly, before turning away and walking further down the terminal. He pauses and casts a glance over his shoulder at Luffy. "Are you coming or not?"

Luffy wasn't really paying much attention to the conversation going on around him; he was watching wide-eyed how the dockworkers install the movable cranes along the walkway and drive their container handlers around. When Lucci addresses him, he tilts his head in surprise. Giddy at the thought of getting on _one of those huge container ships_ , he bounces after him, moving on the balls of his feet. Lucci heaves a deep sigh.

When the Maersk Elgin docks, the cranes are neatly lined up along the terminal walkway with plenty of space in between to stockpile the containers. They're standing near the far end for the inspection.

"—And since the ship comes from Shanghai, we have clearance to open around fifteen percent of the cargo even if the documentation checks out." Lucci stops talking when he notices the boy hasn't listened to a single word he said.

The lights from the ship reflect a blinking red and blue in Luffy's big, expressive eyes as he stares unabashedly, mouth slightly open and rocking back on forth on the tips of his toes.

Leaning in, Lucci says with a cold smirk, "You could at least _pretend_ to listen."

He blinks, suddenly coming back to the conversation and chuckles sheepishly, bringing a hand to the back of his head. " _Shishishi,_ but that would've been even ruder," Luffy remarks as if that would get him out of trouble.

Seizing up the height of the ship's hull, he then prompts, "So when are we going aboard?!"

"We're not," Lucci deadpans, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. Some hairs come loose from his ponytail when the sea breeze picks up again. At Luffy's pouty expression, he merely scoffs and says, "If you would've payed attention, you'd _know_ that we inspect the containers off board. We check two or three right here and the others at the shelter."

" _Aw_ …" Luffy mumbles, and judging by the high, innocent tone of his voice, most of what Lucci said went over his head anyway. "But we can go _inside_ the containers, right?"

Lucci closes his eyes briefly and takes a steadying breath, borrowing on his patience to get him through this conversation. It's not that he's _bad_ with people; his no-nonsense demeanor and appearance usually pave the way to smooth social interactions. His mind's susceptible to intrusive thoughts when he has to deal with people too long however, and those thoughts usually turn to _violence._

Shortly after moving to Kobe, Lucci became a member of a Muay Thai club. It's one of the few martial arts disciplines that promises the intense workout he _needs_.

His uncle made him do all sorts of fighting sports during his teens to get him out of his hair. Lucci learned to love the thrill of a good fight. He's even gotten suspended a couple of times because he'd gotten carried away and beat his opponent to a bloody pulp on the mats. There's something particularly satisfying about blood drying in the creases of his knuckles.

" _Oi,_ can we go into the containers or not?" Luffy pipes up again impatiently, apparently not so keen on being ignored himself.

Lucci stares the boy down, nonplussed by the demanding tone in his voice and the gleam in his eyes, and studies his appearance for a moment. There's a thin, long scar under his left eye. Even in the relative darkness, the whitish tissue sticks out against his suntanned skin. His shirt's too big around his shoulders, store-bought, and rumpled, hanging half-out of his pants. Luffy furrows his brows together and returns Lucci's stare defiantly.

In the background, the rumble of the cranes and of the containers being placed down on the concrete resounds over the shouts of the dockworkers.

"Yes," Lucci eventually says, smirking coldly again. "You can go inside. Be careful nobody gets the idea in their head to reseal the container though. You might run out of air." Softly he mutters under his breath, "And that'd be a _real_ pity."

"Why would anyone close the container? You'll be there to make sure everything's alright, _right?_ " Luffy responds easily with a carefree grin on his face, and he crosses his arms behind his head, looking off at the ship again.

Taken aback by the boy's response, Lucci doesn't reply right away, absentmindedly scrutinizing his profile for a moment. He then bristles and clicks his tongue in annoyance. Some dockworkers are busy offloading a container for inspection a couple of feet away from them; the reflective strips on their safety vests glinting silver in the slivers of light. Lucci unclenches his fists and walks on over, expecting the boy to keep up.

" _Oh_!" Luffy yells excitedly when he sees one of the dockworkers with a crowbar. "Can I open it?!"

Startled, the dockworker almost drops the crowbar and fumbles to keep a tight grip. He looks from his colleagues to Lucci to the boy and then back to Lucci, instinctively knowing _he_ 's the one who really calls the shots. Rolling his eyes, he reminds him snidely, "You're supposed to be on your _best_ behavior."

Luffy rubs his chin pensively, nods to himself and then turns to the dockworker with the crowbar, looking at him earnestly. "Can I _please_ open it?" He asks politely.

 _It's going to be a long day_ , Lucci thinks as he watches how the astounded dockworker hands the crowbar over to the boy and helps him open the container. He's going to pay a visit to Spandam's office once they're done with the inspection. Agreeing to coach an intern is one thing, but Lucci has no intention to become a glorified babysitter. With a hoarse creak, the container door slowly swings open under the force of the crowbar; Luffy starts to laugh loudly and his entire face lights up in triumph.

Lucci just _barely_ resists the urge to dunk him into the sea.

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	2. Chapter 2

I'm still about this story~

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They're headed to the cafeteria at about eleven thirty, walking on a special pathway designated for pedestrians that's cut off from the road by large, yellow-dyed concrete blocks. Despite the midday sun mercilessly bearing down on them, Lucci continues wearing his suit jacket, seemingly unaffected by the heat. Trucks drive past them in droves – the majority going towards the warehouse where customs just finished their inspection of the cargo – and the fumes of exhaust pervade the sweltering air, thick already with the smell of industry and the sea.

The chain-linked fence that separates the backyard of a private storehouse from the port's public area, sways lightly against a sea breeze that sticks to the skin the same way the heat does.

Luffy skips ahead a few steps, swirls around wildly on his heels and walking backwards, goes on about how funny the captain looked when Lucci started to question him. With his arms crossed casually behind his head, Lucci can clearly see the boy's pit stains, and grimaces contemptuously. His chatter's punctuated by the cawing of seagulls flying overhead.

" _—_ and his face!" Luffy exclaims, not able to get another word in before he bursts out in laughter. Recalling how much the captain resembled a cartoon pig with his puffed-out, flustered cheeks and lower lip trembling in barely-concealed fear

" _I know._ I happened to be there too," Lucci grits out, tightening his grip on the handle of his briefcase and stuffing his other hand in the pocket of his pants. While the intention behind his brusque reply was to silence Luffy, it only seems to spur him on instead.

Rolling his eyes at how eagerly the boy recounts all the weird stuff they found in some of the containers – snake hides, contraband Chinese medicine, dried herbs and flowers, _and a whole crate of living frogs!_ – Lucci wonders what it'd take to make this kid shut up. His gaze falls on the two vending machines a bit further down the sidewalk and he quirks an eyebrow.

Lucci comes to a standstill, clicks his briefcase open one-handedly and interrupts Luffy mid-sentence when it becomes clear he isn't going to stop talking any time soon, "I'm getting a drink. Do you want something too?"

At the somewhat sheepish expression on the boy's face when he's patted down the pockets of his pants and came up with some loose change and a crumpled thousand-yen bill, Lucci lightly shakes his head and says between pursed lips, "You can put that away. It's my… _treat._ "

"Really?!" Luffy asks, wide-eyed. He doesn't bother waiting for a reply though, just shy of dashing over to the vending machine and going over the options with his forefinger pressed against the plastic.

He's lost count how many times the boy made him sigh today and so, doesn't care to stifle the curt sigh when he moves to walk after him. Standing still makes him uncomfortably aware of the sweat trickling down the length of his spine, anyway.

Luffy gets a bottle of sweetened milk tea and a box of strawberry-flavored pocky to snack on, while Lucci settles for a can of ice-cold Boss coffee that's still too sugary for his tastes.

"Thanks! I kind of thought you didn't like me, y'know, but I guess you do after all!" Luffy says bluntly, in between bites, trying to gobble up two to three pocky in one-go and spilling pink frosting over that too-big, store-bought shirt of his. "This is _so_ good!" He exclaims, stretching out the 'so' and shoving another pocky half-way down his throat.

Narrowing his eyes at the boy's _atrocious_ manners, Lucci chides matter-of-factly, "Swallow whatever's in your mouth first. Then talk. _Please_."

He cracks open his can of coffee, the sudden sound nothing more than a hiss against the rumble of the trucks' engines, and tips his head back as he drinks. A white van drives them by and the guy in the passenger's seat flicks something out of the window and from his peripheral Lucci thinks to recognize him as one of the crane operators in Iceburg's team.

Casting a glance over his shoulder, he sees the trunk of the van disappear around the bend and a cigar's butt left to smolder pathetically on the asphalt.

 _Paulie,_ he concludes with a sneer on his face, _of course it's Paulie, who else would be so stupid to light up a cigar even after four reprimands and with all the non-smoking signs around?_

The building for Customs and Police sheds its long shadow all the way across the street. The large '9' bolted against the wall above the entrance is unable to contrast against the white cement of the building with its faded black paintjob. Lucci grabs Luffy by the shoulder to prevent him from trekking onwards, oblivious and munching on the last of his pocky, and tells him this will be his workspace for the semester.

When they pass through the automatic glass doors and the rush of cold air from the air conditioning hits them face-first, Kalifa looks away from the two monitors on the receptionist desk and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Behind her, there's a huge panorama shot of Kobe's harbor hung up against the wall. Kalifa's stares at them with her brows arched high and a slight, self-satisfied smile curled up on her lips.

Lucci briefly wonders if she knew _beforehand_ who his intern was and how much of a headache he was turning out to be. She even has the gall to wave coyly at them.

And Luffy, who was downing half his bottle of milk tea in one go, interpreted her wave as a reason to walk on over and say hello. He's a lot quicker on his feet than his wit is, limber and careless like a street rat looking to scrap, a bounce in his step as he bounds over.

With a curt 'plop', he puts down his bottle, slightly wet from the vending machine, onto the receptionist's desk and Kalifa's smile falters slightly at the sight.

"I'm Luffy and I'm new here," Luffy runs his mouth, forgetting to begin his introduction with a short 'hello'. "Pleased to meet you! Are you the person that weird customs manager told me to see for my badge? Oh yeah, this is—" he turns around to point at Lucci who unhurriedly makes his way over too, gripping the handle of his briefcase so hard that his knuckles become a bone white, "—my teacher, or something like that. Does he have to come along too?"

"I'm your supervisor," Lucci corrects promptly, not missing a beat, and gives Kalifa a nod in acknowledgement.

Kalifa rests her chin on the back of her hand and looks up at them from behind her glasses, with half-hooded eyes; her mouth drawn in that self-satisfied, tight-lipped smile from earlier again. "Didn't Spandam say that you were to see me _after_ your shift?" She asks, her sly tone of voice betraying that mean streak their superior is so afraid of.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Luffy sheepishly admits, "I wasn't really paying that much attention."

"I suggest you do from now on," Kalifa answers readily, briefly glancing at Lucci from the corner of her eyes before looking back at Luffy again. "Your shift ends at two thirty, but I'm sure Lucci's already told you as much—"

Her mouth thins into a straight line when the sudden rumble of Luffy's stomach interrupts her. Clutching his abdomen in embarrassment, he whines to no one in particular, "I'm so hungry."

Pouting like earlier this morning when he was told he wasn't allowed to go on the container ship, he then turns to Lucci and pleads, "Can we go eat now?"

Behind them, the double glass doors slide open again and three police officers on their lunchbreak enter the building, joking and laughing as they take the corridor right, towards the cafeteria. They have the sleeves of their uniforms rolled up to the elbows and sweat gleaming on their foreheads.

Lucci hauls a hand through his hair, getting some more hairs loose from his ponytail, and mutters, "Didn't you just have a _snack?_ "

"That only made me hungrier!" He retorts petulantly; with his big, brown eyes open-wide and his jaw set angrily, he has this uncanny resemblance to a defiant puppy. It takes a couple of handfuls of Lucci's self-control not to lash out at the brat, or smack him over the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.

Loudly scraping her throat, Kalifa attempts to draw their attention back on her again. " _Please_ ," and it takes effort to make the word sound even a bit sincere, Lucci can tell. "Stop by after your shift so we can take a picture for your badge."

" _Uhm? Oh,_ right! Sure lady," the boy answers, in that happy-go-lucky way of his. A grin on his face now that he's convinced they'll head off to the cafeteria right away to eat. "It was nice meeting you," he adds as he takes his bottle of milk tea and turns to the corridor on the left. Lucci sighs and grabs him by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks, hissing that it's the other way. His shoulder's slender, bony almost.

Kalifa pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose again; the steel blue of her eyes adds to the compassionless look she gives Lucci as he drags the boy away. He glares at her and she offers a tight-lipped smile in return, as if to say: _have fun with your problem._

Because most officers and government personnel aren't on lunchbreak yet, the cafeteria isn't that crowded. There are two main entrances; one at the front where the food court is and one at the back, and the opposite wall's lined with large rectangular windows. The blinds are down however, and the sunlight filters through in a dull orange, casting a strange glow on the tables closest to the wall. Luffy bounces from one fridge to another, skimming through the bento boxes and side-dishes.

Grabbing a tray from the stack next to the door, Lucci taps the brat on the shoulder and shoves it against his chest, muttering, " _Here_. You forgot this."

"Thanks!" Luffy yells cheerfully and props the tray on the counter before giving the buffet his undivided attention again, rubbing his chin pensively as he tries to decide what to get.

There's a selection of skewered fried vegetables and meats, octopus dumplings, steamed pork buns and pressed sushi, with the price tags neatly in front of each plate. He pulls the thousand-yen bill out of his pocket and scrunches his nose. Lucci waits for him near the check-out counter, leaning against the wall, briefcase placed next to his feet and arms crossed over his chest. It takes the boy a good five minutes to decide.

When Luffy teeters over, practically salivating over the food on his tray, Lucci comments dryly, "Took you long enough."

"Everything looked so good," the boy whines, trying to keep up with Lucci's long, determined strides while balancing the plates and bottle of milk tea on his tray. " _Eh_? Where's your food? You don't want me to share, right?" He asks when they settle down at a table in the back corner and he finally notices Lucci wasn't carrying a tray this entire time.

Scoffing at the inane questions, Lucci puts his briefcase down on the sleek, chrome tabletop, clicks it open and pulls out his lunchbox. Yesterday's leftovers consist of linguini, tuna and a creamy tomato sauce with olives.

The boy's eyes grow big like saucers. "Did you make that yourself? So cool!"

"Yes, I did…" He doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence as the boy suddenly snaps his throwaway chopsticks open and tries to snatch some food from his lunchbox. Reflexively, Lucci smacks the back of his hand with the flat of his fork and warns, "Do that again and I'm jabbing my fork into your hand."

"I just wanted to try some…" Luffy murmurs dejectedly, bringing the full force of his puppy dog eyes onto Lucci before staring hungrily at the lunchbox again.

 _Give him an inch_ , Lucci thinks sourly before muttering an 'itadakimasu' under his breath and twirling some linguini around his fork. He takes a bite, watching how the brat delves into his own meal with much gusto. More people file into the cafeteria, crowding the food courts and talking loudly, police officers and customs administrators alike. Watching them while eating, Lucci tries to spot some of his colleagues from inbound; he thinks to recognize Blueno over at the refrigerators but he's sitting too far to know for sure.

"Hey, _uhm_..." Luffy trails off, scratching the back of his head while trying to figure out what Lucci's name was again. " _You_. What do we do around here if there isn't anything to inspect anymore?"

"What do you mean _what do we do around here_?" He retorts after swallowing down some tuna and pressing a napkin against his mouth. His lips feel slick from the sauce. "You…" Lucci _almost_ can't believe this, but honestly, there wasn't much else to expect. "You don't have a clue about what we do here, do you?"

The brat has the audacity to shrug nonchalantly, as if he doesn't care in the world.

"Not really." He says before gulping down a dumpling whole. He smacks his lips loudly and continues, "Gramps got me in, being all like _you need a steady job after you graduate_ and _I know this weirdo who works at customs whose dad still owes me_ or something. And now I'm here for the semester." While speaking, he imitates his grandfather's expressions and at the end of his sentence, he's grinning widely as if Lucci should be _happy_ about that.

He furrows his brows and takes a steadying breath, mentally counting down from ten to one, like he would in the gym before a sparring session.

"You're taking this all very lightly," Lucci responds, managing to keep his voice even, a cool smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. " _Too lightly_." He stabs into his lunchbox and twirls the last strands of linguini around his fork as he says this. "We'll have to work on that, and we're starting right away."

When he catches Luffy watching the food with so much longing he almost falls off his chair, Lucci's unable to shake the feeling that he's facing a challenge, like a well-trained opponent in the ring or a particularly difficult case. All that's sitting in front of him however, is a wide-eyed, infuriating brat.

Still, it's this _itch_ for a challenge that makes him rethink his decision of turning the assignment as the boy's supervisor down.

Deliberately, he brings the fork slowly to his mouth and takes a big, satisfying bite, enjoying the way the boy's posture deflates, pouting and resting his chin on his forearm. He's still going to have a talk with Spandam to twist the odds in his favor however, to make him a bit more _lenient_ regarding Lucci's teaching methods.

"So…" Luffy pipes up, stretching his right arm and resting his cheek against his shoulder, gaze flicking from a spot on the table to Lucci's face. "Can I go grab dessert now?"

He shoves his fork into his lunchbox, the metal clanging hollowly against the plastic, and deadpans, "Lunchbreak's over." When the brat starts to protest – _Oi!_ _I have enough coins for a mochi! Can't I get one, please? See! I used 'please'_ –he simply pushes his chair back, stands up and cleans up, saying, "We're leaving. Now." Luffy's face falls at his words and he ruthlessly smiles him down in return.

Lucci only plays _to win._

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End file.
